


Consuming Romance: The Essence of a True Love's Kiss

by foolforcolours (evangellie)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous renhyuck, Cheating, Drunken Flirting, Falling Out of Love, Fluff and Angst, Graduate School, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Metafiction, Slow Romance, implied racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26795758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evangellie/pseuds/foolforcolours
Summary: “And you? Do you believe in love at first sight?”Jeno tilted his head at Donghyuck, his eyes turning into half-moons. “I do.”Or, Donghyuck struggles to write, let go and love.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Jeno, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	Consuming Romance: The Essence of a True Love's Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this fic for the 99' ft 00' fic fest last year, hit a giant writer's block and dropped out. Still, I really wanted to complete it: it's maybe too personal and so I hope it touches you somewhat. 
> 
> A note on the setting: it is inspired by my own personal experience, so it is set in what we commonly call the "western world" as it is a mixture of various countries, which you may guess (the existential crisis of a grad student engaged in literary studies does not know boundaries).
> 
> Also, there is a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/49rq68pc4EAWwK6SDnRAN3?si=Sj7FI_kCRdeW0Zd9zxXEWg).
> 
> Finally, some WARNINGS (SPOILERS ahead):  
> Donghyuck is in what we should call a toxic relationship with an OC, who will cheat and exhibit some internalized homophobia and racism at very specific points of the story. If you feel any discomfort regarding these topics, please skip this fic.

_Partners are often conceptualized as sweet food. One reason for these syrupy metaphors is that sugar is a naturally appealing substance, the brain emitting pleasurable feelings at the mere idea of interacting with sweetness (Miska, Hemmesch and Buswell 2018, 7). Partners, potential or lifelong, can be referred, for example, as eye candy, luscious, sweetheart—_

_Or honey_ , Donghyuck completed in his mind, fingers hovering above the keys of his laptop. A bitter taste invaded his mouth; a frown momentarily distorted his brow. He could almost feel the lips that used to brush against his neck, imprinting those saccharine clichés onto his skin, _you taste delicious, like salted caramel, like honey, like dark chocolate_. His hand crept up, unconsciously rubbing at a spot under his ear. That should have been a warning sign, all this cannibalistic sweet talk.

He snorted and shook his head in an attempt to clear it before letting it drop onto the keyboard, not caring if it messed up his freshly typed sentences. Besides, he’d probably rewrite them all tomorrow, that is… unless he simply deleted the whole paragraph. Or like the whole document.

What the fuck was he doing with his life anyway, wasting away in this basement office, alone with its artificial lightening and his own poor posture, permanently damaging his neck, eyesight and self-esteem by writing something that maybe a handful of people would read, if he was lucky, or skim through if he wasn’t.

In his ears, a melancholic rendition of one of Sibelius’ Etudes played. It had a gentle quality that was meant to help him concentrate but, at that precise moment, it only seemed to amplify his gloom.

With a sigh, he looked up, tugged his earbuds out of his ears, letting them fall on the desk. He swirled on his chair once before refocusing on his screen.

_gyghhhhhhhj_

The random keys his forehead had picked. Maybe if he did it enough time, smashed his head until he emptied his brain of memories, his forehead would write his thesis for him, joining enough letters to form a semblance of text. That was how he felt anyhow, since the break-up: a semblance of self, barely held together; words often sticking at the back of his throat, at the back of his mind, struggling to form anything remotely coherent.

Rhythmically sinking his middle finger onto the delete key, he erased the characters one at a time, delaying for a few seconds his work. It was satisfying, in a way, to be able to destroy what made no sense, even if only on his screen, even if only in words.

He had always thought that broken hearts belonged solely to the hyperbolic imagery of poetry, pop songs and romance novels, in the same way that his own skin did not really taste of honey or caramel but rather of heat and salty sweat.

Yet, he still felt like his heart had actually fractured, its shards causing a lasting pain to embed itself into the pulsating organ, sometimes an only-just-there tenderness, sometimes a lancing ache that irradiated his chest and made his eyes water.

“Hyuck, you there?” Renjun’s voice bled through the closed door.

Donghyuck switched to his web browser tab, where his email inbox informed him that he had two new emails. “Yeah, come in.”

He glanced at their senders and subject lines. There was one spam email from _academia.edu_ , from which he remembered vaguely trying to unsubscribe that one time but, somehow, they kept coming. He quickly deleted it. His cursor, however, froze on top of the second subject line.

It was from his supervisor. About their research project’s next meeting. His chest throbbed at its prospect.

“Just popping up to see if you want to grab an early lunch,” Renjun said, plopping himself onto an office chair and wheeling himself next to Donghyuck. “I swear that if I have to translate one more sentence, my brain might liquify.”

“It’s 11am,” Donghyuck replied, cursor still hovering on top of the email.

“That’s why I said _early_ lunch.” Renjun leant forward, to glimpse at the screen. “Also, you aren’t really working.”

“Don’t peek,” Donghyuck snapped the laptop shut. “I brought lunch from home. I was planning on eating here. I’ve got a deadline coming up. You know, the article for the project.”

“Right. I forgot you were avoiding the cafeteria.”

Donghyuck spluttered, “I’m _not_.”

Renjun snorted in reply. “Also I saw that email. You can’t keep on avoiding your ex forever. You’re working in the same field. On the same project.”

“Watch me.” His lips thinned at the thought of having to interact with him.

“Can I at least tempt you with coffee?” Renjun sighed. “On me.”

Donghyuck hesitated, his hand reaching to open his laptop once again. He could maybe edit a paragraph or two before lunch. Renjun frowned, “I’m not gonna beg but I really do need to rant about this novel I’m working on. There’re so many cringy untranslatable puns.”

“Okay, a quick one but in the engineering building,” Donghyuck replied. At Renjun’s lifted eyebrow, he continued, “Don’t judge. I need some fresh air and you know the coffee there tastes better. Anyway, weren’t you supposed to focus on your thesis? What are you doing translating?”

“Same old reason,” Renjun’s grant had run out before he could complete his PhD, being constantly overloaded with side projects. “I can’t refuse translation offers. Aside from the puns, the novel isn’t half bad. It’s about time travel and aliens are running the show. It’s pretty fun actually. I can lend it to you once you’re done reading about love.”

They left his office —it was a shared space, but no one ever came because it was, well, in the basement and also because it had flooded last year, destroying quite a lot of materials and his co-workers had not yet fully recovered from the bad taste of having months of work ruined. Donghyuck always saved everything he needed on the cloud, didn’t mind the stained walls (no funds for paint, it seemed), and he could do with the quietness.

While locking up the door, Donghyuck could see Renjun texting from the corner of his eye. Renjun caught his gaze, smirk widening his lips.

“Would you mind if we swung by the lab of our favourite linguists, see if they wanna join us?”

“I’ve got work to do,” Donghyuck grumbled, but let himself be led to the lab, which was on the same floor as his office.

Renjun huffed at the _DO NOT DISTURB!* Experiment in progress_ sign that was stuck to the lab door. He swiftly took out his phone and started texting in a way that Donghyuck could only describe as aggressive. Meanwhile, Donghyuck occupied himself by inspecting the sheet of paper, its fading letters, fraying edges and the yellowing tape. His lips quirked up when he noticed the handwritten note that had been newly added at the bottom of the sign: * _Do NOT KNOCK on the door!!!_

A few seconds later, Jaemin let himself out, carefully closing the door behind him.

“Sorry, we’re in the middle of recording a participant,” his lips stretching into a blinding smile that was aimed at Renjun. Donghyuck looked past him, his gaze focusing once again on the messy letters of the note. It must have been Jisung’s work, the undergraduate helping them for credits.

“You’ve got a booth for that, haven’t you?” Renjun replied.

“Yeah, but it’s been giving us problems since the flooding,” Jaemin explained. “We’re almost done. I can come with you and the others will join us when they’re done.”

“It was supposed to be a quick coffee,” Donghyuck grumbled.

“Since when do you complain about having an excuse to procrastinate?” Jaemin’s deep voice prickled his ears. He shrugged, already feeling too tired.

“He’s got a deadline,” Renjun said, his arm sneaking around Donghyuck’s shoulders, bringing him closer. The contact brought him comfort, though Donghyuck couldn’t help but notice the way Jaemin’s smile tensed when his gaze flickered to where Renjun’s fingers were sinking into his shoulder. Donghyuck leaned further into Renjun, quirking an eyebrow at Jaemin.

“Forgive him. It’s making him a bit cranky,” Renjun went on, seemingly oblivious, and reached to poke at one of Donghyuck’s cheeks. Before Donghyuck could deny the accusation or threaten to bite Renjun’s finger, the door opened once again, revealing Jeno who was escorting the participant out.

“Hey guys, what are you still doing here?” Jeno asked. “Jaemin, weren’t you dying for a coffee?”

“Donghyuck is being a cranky baby,” Jaemin said. Donghyuck sent him an annoyed glare.

“Well, let me get my wallet,” Jeno smiled gently at Donghyuck, raising his hand to pat his head, “I’ll help you cheer up, Hyuck.”

“I’m not cranky,” Donghyuck sputtered, detaching himself from Renjun to dodge Jeno’s hand. “Just tired,” he added, pretending not to see Jeno’s hurt expression.

“You’ve been tired for weeks. Since, you know….” Jaemin’s unfinished remark hung in the air, an awkward silence filling the space, and Donghyuck decided that he didn’t want to deal with this, with them trying to make him confront his own bullshit. He liked his bullshit, thank you very much.

“I need to get back to work,” he said and swiftly turned around, striding away in what he hoped was the right direction.

“Hyuck, wait!”

He didn’t, irritation flaring up, making him walk faster, almost running. He knew it was kind of useless though, since, well, they’d know where to find him anyway, but he hoped they’d get the hint and leave him the fuck alone.

As he was trying to make his key fit inside the freaking keyhole, a hand landed on his shoulder. “Hyuck, please.”

Donghyuck let himself fall forward, forehead leaning against the cool door, and took a deep breath. Of course, it had to be Jeno. “Leave me alone.”

Jeno’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Hyuck.”

“What,” he whispered faintly.

“It’s the wrong door.”

Embarrassment flooded him and he let himself be pulled away and guided to the next door. His gaze remained resolutely fixed to the floor as he could feel his cheeks redden. His lower back tingled each time Jeno’s hand grazed it. He let Jeno gently pry the key from his fingers, the soft touch making his heart flutter, and be pushed inside his office. Jeno stepped in as well, closing the door behind him.

Donghyuck let himself fall into his chair and opened his laptop, refusing to meet Jeno’s eyes, knowing he would only find concern, a gaze too kind to resist. He bit his lower lip. The screen lightened up, showing him his inbox and the dreaded email, still unopened.

“Hyuck?”

“Mmm…” Donghyuck closed the tab, switching to the Word document and the cursor that blinked at the end of the sentence he had left unfinished. He reread the words slowly, completing the text: _Potential or lifelong partners can be referred, for example, as eye candy, luscious, sweetheart_ _or honey._

Adding a mere two words to the sentence made something slightly uncoil in his stomach. Why was writing this difficult? Why were feelings and words so complex and yet, mind-blowingly, paradoxically simple at the same time?

“Talk to me. We’re all worried.” He could feel the weight of Jeno’s stare on the back of his neck. “I’m worried.”

He knew a language’s intricacy was in great part due to the constant battle between precision and simplicity, between clarity and brevity. What about feelings then? How was one sure of what they meant?

He let his fingers fly over the keys. _In the romance novels analysed thus far, lovers often appear as voracious. The term, which refers to an eager and/or insatiable appetite, metaphorically conveys both passionate desire as well as the intensity of hatred._

He wet his lips before sighing.

Maybe language’s ambiguity, its polysemy, reflected how one emotion could easily turn into the other, overlap even; love and hate, hate and love. It wasn’t a clear-cut line that separated them but a patchy edge. After all, both emotions could spark the desire of consuming someone in their totality, to either become one with the other person or to annihilate them completely, implying in both cases the erasure of the other’s existence and, perhaps, of one’s own as well.

Maybe that was what had happened. Maybe it would happen again, if he let his emotions run his choices.

Jeno cleared his throat. “Hyuck?”

“I need to finish writing this.”

Jeno sighed. “I know you don’t. You’re just avoiding this conversation.”

With tremulant fingers, Donghyuck continued typing, a bit more forcefully, before copy-pasting a quotation he had saved for this article.

 _Violent parallels are established between them, “the act of_ eating, absorbing, incorporating _, and then_ expelling _exemplify[ing] both love_ and _hate” (Weiss ADD REF; original emphasis)._

“I don’t think it’s any of your business.” He noted absentmindedly that the reference was incomplete. He’d have to look for it later. It was probably in one of his Notes files.

“Really?” Jeno stepped closer and closer, until he was leaning, invading Donghyuck’s personal space to murmur into his ear, “Is that what you _really_ think?”

Donghyuck’s pulse quickened at the words, the warm breath on his skin making him shiver. He closed his eyes tightly. Did it matter?

“Yeah,” he replied, forceful, “leave me alone.” He closed his laptop, briskly standing up. Before Jeno had time to reply, he added, “I need to go to the library. You can leave my key at the reception. Don’t follow me.”

He shoved his laptop and notebook into his backpack and left, not once looking at Jeno.

✎

Safely hidden in the library, Donghyuck remembered how everything had started to unravel.

(Were he honest with himself, he’d have to admit things had gone somewhat wrong before then.)

Several months ago, he had been zoning out during lunch break as Mark enthusiastically explained _again_ how important it was to build a corpus of Korean EFL learners to improve teaching methods. It was probably why Donghyuck had agreed to be recorded, just so maybe Mark would talk about something else.

“Come tomorrow. You’ll meet Jaemin and Jeno,” Mark continued, not noticing that Donghyuck had zoned out.

“Who?”

“Jaemin and Jeno. You know, the PhD candidates that have just joined my team. They’re in their second year just like you,” Mark frowned at Donghyuck’s shrug, “I’m pretty sure I’ve talked about them already. Do you even listen to me?”

“Yeah, yeah, can I bring a friend?” If he was going to suffer of boredom, he might as well share the pain.

Mark’s frown disappeared, “Actually that would be great. We’re struggling to find more participants with the right profile.”

“About that… He’s Chinese but his Korean is native-like.”

“That’s not _at all_ the right profile, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck pouted. As an English lit major he wasn’t anything like their usual participants either. “I don’t have quite the right profile and here I am… still trying to help my _friend_.”

Mark sighed, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Alright, I guess. Data is data. Bring him along.”

“You won’t regret it,” Donghyuck replied while fishing his phone from his pocket and texting Renjun.

It was actually Donghyuck who regretted it.

He hadn’t accounted for the not-so-discreet glances Jaemin directed at Renjun the whole time they were at the lab. He had heard stories about him, for being flirty with undergrad students, and while he didn’t usually listen to rumours, it still rubbed him the wrong way.

It was only the three of them, sitting at a central desk in the middle of the office; Donghyuck next to Renjun, both facing a smiling Jaemin. Mark was running late from a meeting and Jeno had gone for coffee before they’d arrived.

Stacks of colour-coded paper littered the table and so Donghyuck just leant back against the chair. He glared at Jaemin, who just grinned his blinding shark teeth at him before asking, “What’s your research about?”

“Romance stuff,” Donghyuck shrugged. Jaemin lifted an eyebrow.

“I hope that’s not your hypothesis.”

“Very funny.” He could feel his jaw start to clench.

“He studies the representation of gender and sexuality in romance novels,” Renjun said, elbowing Donghyuck in the ribs. “And I’m doing translation studies. How machine translation affects communication to be precise.”

“Machine translation?” Jaemin leaned forward, looking intently at Renjun. “That’s so fascinating.”

Donghyuck couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose, though he didn’t exactly know why he was feeling this hostile. Mark would say something about him being territorial. He wanted to scoff; Mark didn’t know what possessiveness truly looked like.

“Yeah, I analyse conversations that are mediated by automated translation,” Renjun happily explained, red starting to bloom on his cheeks.

Donghyuck felt his phone vibrate where it was resting on his leg. Welcoming the distraction, he flipped it around to peer at the screen. It was a message from his boyfriend.

“I’ve got to go.” He said, standing up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

“Already?” Renjun asked, a frown now marring his features. “But—”

“Yep. Have fun flirting.” He blew a kiss at Renjun, before quickly grabbing his backpack from the floor and rushing to the door.

Hand on the doorknob and backpack on his shoulder, he glanced at Jaemin, a diffuse sort of guilt filling his gut, “I’ll talk to Mark to make up for it.”

Before Jaemin could reply, he swiftly pushed the door open only to collide with, well, hotness; as in the hot coffee spilled all over his t-shirt burning his skin somewhat.

“Ah! I’m so sorry!” A deep voice said but Donghyuck was too busy to look up, attempting to unpeel his t-shirt from his chest, wincing at the slight pain.

His hands were accidently knocked away as the culprit tried to apply a flimsy napkin to the stain. Donghyuck felt his irritation sky-rocket before his gaze fell on the two reusable coffee cups that laid on the floor, the remaining dark liquid staining the floor. Well, he couldn’t stay annoyed for very long since the guy had ruined his freshly purchased coffees. Also said guy was probably Jeno and Donghyuck felt guilty once again for leaving early.

“I’m so sorry. You came out so quickly that I—”

“It’s fine,” Donghyuck detached Jeno’s hands from his t-shirt. “You’re—” He looked up and, as his eyes met Jeno’s wide, innocent-looking ones, his chest felt like it was being burned all over again.

“Jeno,” he answered, eyes crinkling into half-moons. “Donghyuck, right? Mark talks about you all the time so I feel like we already know each other.”

“It’s—” His phone shook again in his pocket, this time insistently. “I’m sorry for your coffees.” The phone felt heavy, its vibration persistent against his leg. Making a split-second decision, he added, “Let me replace them. I’ve got to rush but just ask Mark for my number.”

“It’s okay though,” Jeno replied. Jaemin and Renjun peeked at them from inside the office.

“Ah, no, really, I insist. Just text me and I’ll deliver them to you.” He glanced at Renjun, who tilted his head questioningly at him. Donghyuck shrugged and looked back at Jeno. “Or we can go get some together if you want.”

“Yeah, alright. That would be nice.”

“Great.” Donghyuck bit his lower lip. “Bye then.”

“Bye.”

Jeno’s smile made something throb in his chest.

Donghyuck fled.

As he opened the door from his flat, he was welcomed with a frown, crossed arms and the question “Where the fuck were you?” from his boyfriend, Will, a fellow PhD candidate in English lit. They had met at one of those compulsory courses about the ethics of research and how to properly document your work.

They had clicked immediately, quietly poking fun at the pomposity of some of their fellow researchers. It had been easy, the attraction between them immediately palpable. Will had been charming with his blond hair and blue eyes, the dimple in his cheeks and his impeccable smile. He had similar tastes in literature, which made it easy for Hyuck to crack obscure jokes to which Will would laugh, his dimples deepening each time.

It had been flattering to have his attention.

After the two-week-long course had ended, they had met again during the first bi-monthly meeting of their research group, and then at the bar where the post-meeting get-together took place. Where they kept casually touching one another. Where gazes lingered. And one thing had swiftly led to another until somehow their lives were swiftly meshed together: becoming lovers, then boyfriends, and finally sharing a flat together because it made sense.

It had been fun and easy, and exhilarating; this first committed relationship, the passion that made everything else fade away and the idea that someone could love him back.

Will was leaning against the wall of the hallway, with his arms crossed over his chest, phone in one hand, an eyebrow lifted. Donghyuck repressed a sigh. He put his backpack down on the floor and busied himself with the task of toeing his shoes off.

“Does it matter where I was? I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“You were with Renjun, weren’t you?”

“Yeah and what about it?” He could explain that they were at Mark’s lab, but he felt tired. Also annoyance was starting to course through his veins. Renjun was one of his best friends and they worked at the same university. Of course they met often.

“Why didn’t you answer me when I texted you? What were you doing?”

“I did answer you.” Donghyuck walked past him towards the kitchen and felt Will start after him.

“Like an hour later.” Will grabbed his elbow, stopping him from going further. “Would you look at me when we talk?”

Donghyuck looked at Will’s frowning face and answered, “I was busy. We were helping Mark with his research.”

“Really?”

Donghyuck nodded, “Really. Can you let me go? I’m thirsty.”

Will looked down at his hand that had been tightly secured on Donghyuck’s arm, as if it wasn’t his own, and quickly let go. “Oh, of course. What do you wanna drink?”

“I’ll just have a glass of water. I can get it myself.”

Will followed him into the kitchen. “So how’s Mark’s research going?”

Donghyuck filled a glass of water from the faucet and gulped a sip before turning around and answering. “Fine. He’s having some difficulties finding participants. That’s why Renjun and I were together. We were at Mark’s lab.”

“That’s nice,” Will said. “I could help too.”

“You’re not Korean though, are you?”

In his pocket, Donghyuck could feel his phone vibrate several times.

“Renjun isn’t either, is he?” Will scoffed. Donghyuck slid his phone from his jeans and checked his messages. It was an unknown number.

“No, but he speaks Korean fluently.”

**unknown number:**

Hey! it’s Jeno! the guy who poured coffee all over u this morning

i got your number so be prepared to become a coffee delivery boy soon ^^

Donghyuck couldn’t repress a smile from tugging at one corner of his lips. He quickly took another sip of water.

“What are you smiling at?” Will asked.

He shouldn’t have checked his phone right there and then. He locked his phone and slid it back into his pocket. “Nothing much. Renjun sent me a translating meme.” 

Where did that lie come from? It’s not like he was doing anything wrong, was he?

Will straightened and walked the few steps that separated them. “Can I see?”

“It’s an old one, you know, the one about people using google translate.” Donghyuck air-quoted one-handedly, “ _I live danger also like._ Or something like that.”

“You can just let me see it.”

Donghyuck took another sip and leaned back against the sink. “I could but it isn’t that good.”

“You smiled.”

“I did.”

“So just let me see it.”

“Why do you want to see it so badly? It’s a terrible meme.”

“Why don’t you want me to see it?” Will pressed and Donghyuck felt something heavy lodge itself on his chest.

“It’s not that...” Donghyuck rubbed one hand against his face. “This is ridiculous. Do I have to share everything with you? It feels like I’m being interrogated. Can’t I have friends or what?”

“It’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

Will looked away, biting his lower lip. Donghyuck stared.

“Really? You don’t want me having friends?” He set his glass down. It noisily clinked when it hit the metallic sink.

“Hyuck, that’s not it.” Will says. “I just… Renjun… You’re just so close.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what a best friend is for.”

“But with Mark it’s not the same.”

Because he had never made out with Mark, but he had with Renjun, a few times, at parties, at the very beginning of their friendship, before meeting Will. And Donghyuck had told Will at some point of them getting together.

Maybe some things were better left unsaid.

“I’m close with Mark. Not in the same way, yes, but every friendship is different.”

“I don’t think so. It’s just...” Will crossed his arms over his chest. “Can you stop seeing Renjun?”

“What the fuck?” He stared at Will, incredulous.

“Hyuck hear me out.”

“Absolutely not.” Donghyuck stormed out of the kitchen to the front door, starting to shove his feet back into his shoes.

“Hyuck, wait. I’m sorry!” Will said with a desperation that tugged at Donghyuck’s heartstring. “I didn’t mean it. It’s just... you know I love you so much.”

Donghyuck let himself be pulled upright until he faced Will. Will looked at him, eyes wide, and said with a low voice, “I don’t want us to hide anything from each other. I just… want us to be together.”

Donghyuck couldn’t hold his gaze and let his eyes close, the shoe he was barely holding with his fingertips finally escaping his grasp and dropping onto the floor

“I love you Hyuck,” Will breathed against his cheek.

A pair of lips softly brushed against his, hands on his hips gently pushed him backward, against the door. A tongue caressed his lower lip and Donghyuck let his mouth fall open, sighing into the deepening kiss and clinging onto Will’s neck because, despite the pressure heavy on his chest, he still loved him too.

The next day, after carefully disentangling himself from a deeply asleep Will, Donghyuck went back to the lab to finish the recording session. The recording was swiftly completed but Mark let Donghyuck hang out, probably noticing his jittery behaviour.

“Don’t you need to write?” Mark asked as he typed on his laptop.

“When do I _not_ need to write?” Donghyuck sighed, sprawled on the desk next to Mark. “I can’t concentrate.”

“What’s up?”

“I should probably just do some kind of manual task, but I’ve already finished formatting all my references,” Donghyuck continued, rolling his forehead against the cold surface.

“You should really start using Mendeley dude,” Mark absentmindedly responded.

“That’s not the point.”

Mark sighed and closed his laptop. He stared at Donghyuck. “What’s the point?”

Donghyuck buried his head in his arms and sighed. Mark poked him in the ribs. “What’s wrong?”

Donghyuck could feel his worried gaze burn a hole into his head. He could just say it, get some advice, and get on with his writing.

“Will kinda gets upset when I hang out with Renjun.”

“Mmm...” Mark hummed softly. “What did he say?”

Donghyuck looked up, resting his chin on his crossed arms. “Why aren’t you _surprised_?”

Mark shrugged, scratching his nose.

“He asked me to stop seeing Renjun,” Donghyuck mumbled, wincing at Mark’s rising eyebrows.

“Do you know why he asked you that?” Mark replied. “That’s quite a big request.”

“He knows we’ve made out in the past,” Donghyuck said, lowering his gaze to the desk.

“Yeah, but that was before you met him, right?” Mark countered, “Renjun and you have been only friends for quite a while.”

It was Donghyuck’s turn to shrug. Mark sighed. “Hyuck, what do you wanna do?”

“Obviously I won’t stop hanging out with Renjun.” Mark nodded as Donghyuck continued, “but I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you tried, like, talking it out?” Mark asked, tilting his head.

“Kinda.” Donghyuck started tracing the grain of the table with his finger.

“And?”

Donghyuck shrugged. “He apologised.”

But somehow that hadn’t made him feel any better about the whole thing.

“Really?”

Donghyuck nodded, frowning a bit at Mark’s genuine surprise.

“And so why are you so bummed out?”

“I don’t know. It’s just…” And it suddenly hit Donghyuck, why things still didn’t feel right even though they had made up. “He doesn’t trust me, does he? And he’s not gonna change, is he?”

Mark sighed. “I don’t wanna put my nose where I shouldn’t but, like, do you want my sincere advice?

Donghyuck gave him a look. “Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?”

“Just checking.” Mark smiled. “Maybe you just wanted to vent.”

“No, yeah, tell me the hard, cold truth.” Donghyuck did know where this was going, kinda. He didn’t really want to hear it, but Mark always made it easier to swallow hard pills.

“From your conclusion and also, you know, having seen you two together for a while, the way you’ve never met his friends, how he never hangs out with us and doesn’t like when you do…”

“Just say it,” Donghyuck shifted impatiently on his chair. He had the distinct impression that Mark had been holding back for a while.

“I think… you should rethink being together, maybe.” Mark said in a rush, looking at Donghyuck as if he was going to explode.

There it was. The thought that he kept evading, that he didn’t want to confront, plainly spelled out by Mark. He felt so heavy, sadness eating at him, making his shoulders slump forward.

“Hyuck?” Mark stammered, “Or not! You know I’m not the best for relationship advice.” He chuckled awkwardly. “ As you often point out, I’m married to this lab.”

Donghyuck straightened up and stretched his lips into a small smile. “No, you’re probably right but—” He swallowed the rest of the words —he wasn’t sure how he was going to end the sentence, probably with justifications as to why he shouldn’t _give up_ because he loved him and love was worth fighting for— as the door opened.

“Hyung! I’ve got the coffees—” Jeno came in holding one mug and a reusable coffee cup. His smile fell slightly. “Oh, hi.”

Donghyuck wanted to bury himself between his arms once again. He had completely forgotten to reply to last night’s messages. “Hey Jeno, sorry I didn’t answer your messages. I was... busy,” he said, wincing at his poor excuse.

“That’s fine,” Jeno replied, his eyes crinkling once again. 

“I can see I also failed as a coffee delivery boy,” Donghyuck added, his tone deliberately light.

Jeno looked down at the coffees in his hands as if suddenly remembering what he had set to do.

“Mark, here’s your coffee.” He set both coffees on the table, pushing one of them in front of Mark, who thanked him.

“Well, I think I should go and let you work,” Donghyuck said as he got up from his chair. “I do actually need to write.”

Mark pursued his lips, as he did when he worried, before he replied, “Take care. And keep me updated.”

“Will do.”

Jeno looked at both of them, clearly curious.

Donghyuck made for the door, avoiding Jeno’s gaze, but Jeno was closer and faster and reached for the door handle first. Their hands brushed against one another and there was something like a spark. Donghyuck jolted his hand away and let it fall against his side, his eyes sliding down to stare at Jeno’s hand, which twisted the door open.

Donghyuck flexed his hand, a residual warmth tickling his skin.

“See you soon?” Jeno said just as Donghyuck blurted, “Do you want to get coffee together?”

Jeno glanced at the table behind Donghyuck, where his coffee was slowly cooling, its fragrance wafting in the air. Donghyuck felt himself redden.

“Ah, maybe another time then?”

Jeno smiled, “For sure. How about tomorrow? At 10? The engineering cafeteria?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Donghyuck walked out, willing the heat in his cheeks to melt away. 

Back in his office, as he sat down at his desk, turning his computer on, he realized he hadn’t even thought of inviting Mark, one of the owners of the originally spilt coffees.

He felt oddly nervous, waiting for Jeno at the cafeteria of the engineering building, even though he had had many coffees with friends at that same place.

He liked the surrounding brouhaha and the almost innocent energy of the youthful students not yet weighted by the pressure of academic brilliance or the workload of a full-time job that was less ideal than previously imagined.

His stomach twisted into knots and he wondered, not for the first time, if he was doing something wrong.

He was just getting coffee to strengthen a budding friendship, nothing wrong with having friends. Whatever Will said.

A hand waved in front of his face, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Oh, hi Jeno! You almost gave me a heart attack,” Donghyuck said, smiling, a hand against his chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, but you seemed so deep in thoughts.” Jeno set a coffee in front of Donghyuck, and one for himself facing him before sitting down. “Milk, no sugar, right?”

“Oh, did you get them already? For how long was I staring into the emptiness?” Donghyuck laughed, scratching the back of his head.

Jeno chuckled. “What were you thinking about?”

“Oh,” Donghyuck fumbled, “You know PhD stuff.”

And that was it, Jeno asked about his research and listened as Donghyuck ranted about novels and silly characters, the way love was represented as this unrealistic, predestined, all-encompassing passion that erased everything else.

“You don’t believe in love at first sight then?”

Donghyuck frowned, “No, not really. How can you love someone based on almost nothing? Just their appearance? Attracted, certainly. But love… that’s too big of a word.”

Jeno looked at the bottom of his now empty cup, and Donghyuck felt a bit guilty for having monopolized the conversation. Jeno made talking easy. “And you? Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Jeno tilted his head at Donghyuck, his eyes turning into half-moons. “I do.”

Donghyuck felt like he could fall, the air suddenly becoming heavy, almost suffocating.

“I... I should probably go,” he said, rigidly getting up. Jeno looked a bit disappointed, but they had finished their coffees and Donghyuck really needed to go. He needed to write after all.

“Let’s do this again sometime soon,” Jeno’s voice softly reached Donghyuck’s ears, making him shiver as he left.

They kept meeting for coffees and sometimes lunch. Occasionally, they would be joined by Mark, Renjun and, to Donghyuck’s absolute distaste, Jaemin. His dislike was soon mollified by Jaemin’s vivid storytelling of embarrassing stories featuring Jeno, which would put a blush on his cheeks. Also, he had to admit that Jaemin couldn’t be that bad; he was Jeno’s best friend.

Mark’s advice had been relegated to the back of his mind. Donghyuck made an effort to make his relationship with Will work, despite the frown Renjun sent him every time that he left early after checking his phone, and despite Mark’s furrowed eyebrows whenever Donghyuck mentioned anything Will-related.

They couldn’t understand, he reasoned, because they weren’t in the relationship; they didn’t see the good moments, which, albeit rarer than at the beginning of their romance, were still worth it. Love wasn’t like the novels he read. It wasn’t magical, instantaneous or _easy_. Love was something you had to work on.

A Friday afternoon found Donghyuck lying on the bed, Will gone for the day to a full day of seminars.

Donghyuck was simply staring at the white ceiling, noticing a slightly yellowish stain for the first time, when his phone started vibrating on the floor. He reached for it and looked at the notification.

**injunnie:**

yo!! doing anything tonight?

Donghyuck thought about it for two seconds, thought about how he’d kind of had a small argument this morning with Will and that he’d come back tonight and he’d have to deal with the heavy, awkward atmosphere, work to unknot the ties of their relationship, and he felt a weight settle at the pit of his stomach.

**hyuck:**

nothing much

why?

**injunnie:**

i need you to come with me to a party

**hyuck:**

what party?

**injunnie:**

one that jaemin invited me too and now i need u to come with me bc there will be no one i know

**hyuck:**

there’ll be jaemin

**injunnie:**

Lee Donghyuck I swear!!!

**hyuck:**

don’t use proper punctuation on me

ok

when?

where?

**injunnie:**

9pm at my place and we go together

**hyuck:**

👍 👍 👍

They shared a beer before going to Jaemin’s and it was already 11pm when they arrived at the party (it hadn’t helped that Donghyuck had been late to Renjun’s; it had taken him forever to get out of bed).

It was in full swing and, yeah, there weren’t a lot of people Donghyuck could recognise.

Not having been able to find Jaemin, they unloaded their beers into his fridge, somehow wedging them into the rare empty spaces as the fridge was bursting with alcohol.

Donghyuck leaned against the kitchen counter, opening another can of beer, “It tastes better after all this effort.”

Renjun snorted, settling next to Donghyuck with his own beer. “You’re way too out of shape if putting beer into a fridge is hard work.”

Before he could retaliate (he did go for runs three times a week!), Jeno suddenly entered the kitchen with a half-empty drink in his hand, smiling at them.

“I didn’t know you’d be there.” It slipped out of Donghyuck, his brain-to-mouth filter already altered by the alcohol.

“Surprise!” Jeno said, laughing, before he walked the few steps separating them. “I’m actually Jaemin’s flatmate.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck responded, not quite able to maintain eye contact, his gaze falling on Jeno’s muscular arms exposed by his black tank top’s distinct lack of sleeves. Had he ever seen Jeno sleeveless before?

He quickly sipped a mouthful of beer to stop any other thoughts from departing his lips.

The silence stretched and Donghyuck could feel Renjun shift beside him, smirking, and Jeno’s eyes on him.

It was a bit too much. Donghyuck swallowed another mouthful before declaring he needed to go to the bathroom.

He made his way through the living room, apologising as he bumped into bodies. Jaemin was popular and there were obviously more people than the place could decently host.

Sweat was trickling down his face. He couldn’t wait to find the bathroom and splash some water on his face. It was with this thought that his gaze, which flitted from person to person in a lazy attempt to recognize anyone familiar, encountered a scene he’d rather never have witnessed.

He couldn’t believe his eyes, but there, in a dark corner, sitting on a grey armchair, was Will with a girl on his lap, fucking exchanging saliva.

“The fuck,” Donghyuck let out, loud enough to be heard over the music. He met Will’s hazy gaze over the girl’s shoulder. He saw it displayed on his face, when it dawned on him that Donghyuck was there. He didn’t scramble to get the girl off of him, however, instead opening his mouth to say what Donghyuck was sure to be an excuse.

“It’s not—”

“Not what I think? Are you fucking _serious_?”

And maybe it was because Donghyuck hadn’t eaten enough and the alcohol felt strong on his stomach, but he suddenly felt nauseous.

“Who’s this, babe?” The girl said, turning around and looking at Donghyuck up and down. The inflection on the word babe had the same effect as nails on chalkboard.

Donghyuck finished his drink in one swift motion before asking, “Yeah, who’s this, _babe_?” He couldn’t help the bitterness from slipping in.

Will’s lips pinched themselves into a straight line, eyeing Donghyuck before returning his attention to the girl. “It’s just this guy that keeps hitting on me. He can’t get the hint that I’m not gay.”

Donghyuck’s eyelids fluttered in bewilderment. He felt his heart slam like crazy in his chest, pounding in his ears.

The girl gave him a nasty glare, and Donghyuck couldn’t help but notice her blond hair, white skin and pearly teeth. He stumbled away, running into Jaemin but pushing him away at his concerned gaze to stagger into the bathroom and empty the contents of his stomach, having locked the door behind him.

He let himself fall to the floor, his back resting against the cool tiles of the wall. _What the fuck._ He must have entered a parallel universe or something at some point during the evening. Maybe when he had been staring at Jeno’s biceps. His stomach churned.

Someone knocked on the door. Donghyuck grumbled a _fuck off_ but didn’t have the strength to do much more.

“It’s me, Renjun. Open up.”

Donghyuck let his head hit the wall behind him.

“I know you’re in here. Jaemin told me.”

The fucking snitch. Donghyuck sighed and pushed himself up. He opened the door to reveal Renjun’s worried face.

“Hey,” Renjun said softly. “So… err… I saw.” He continued as he gestured in the general direction of the living room with a grimace.

Donghyuck nodded, feeling increasingly detached from reality. “Let’s get me drunk.”

“You shouldn’t... We should just leave,” Renjun replied, grabbing his wrist.

Donghyuck slid out of his hold. “Nah, you have fun with Jaemin. I’m gonna hang out with the booze.”

At Renjun’s reticent look, Donghyuck grabbed his hand —Renjun tightening his hold despite Donghyuck’s sweaty palm— and pulled his best friend back towards the kitchen where Jeno and Jaemin threw him worried glances.

“Who wants to have fun?” he blurted out, wanting everyone to just stop looking. He grabbed Jeno’s cup of whatever it was and drank it in big gulps, relishing the sensation of the burning liquid sliding down his throat.

He drank until everything felt blurry. Until nothing felt quite real. Until all the conversations he’d had this evening faded into a dream-like quality.

Then, he was outside. The fresh air gently caressing his face made him recover some sense, enough to put one foot after the other. Someone warm was holding him up as Donghyuck carefully shifted his weight on one foot and then another foot and another foot and…

“Where are we going?”

There was no answer. Probably because he had said it into someone’s jean jacket. It felt rough under his skin, but it also smelled nice. Comforting.

Oh yeah. His question. He unstuck his face from the jacket.

“Where are we going?” It came out all slurred somehow. He swallowed once, scowling at his mouth for feeling dry as a desert, his tongue like sandpaper. “Where are we going?” He repeated, louder and marginally less slurred.

“Home.”

It was a soft, deep voice that reached his ears and he buried his face again into the rough fabric, relieved. The feeling was short-lived, a niggling thought making itself known at the back of his mind.

He couldn’t go home. Will would be home.

He planted his feet on the ground and weakly shoved at the person he was leaning against. It was enough to destabilise them both and he was let go. His legs decided they were jelly and he felt himself fall forward, reflexively putting his hands in front of him to break the fall.

He hit the ground with his forearms and palms first and stayed there, dazed, feeling the gravel embed itself into his skin.

“Hyuck! Are you alright?” Someone was crouching next to him and Donghyuck blinked until Renjun’s worried face came into focus. He nodded. Yeah, he was fine. Super fine.

Renjun grabbed him by the elbow. “We’re gonna help you stand.”

Donghyuck felt hands circling his waist and pulling him up, up, up until things were vertical once again.

“Thanks,” he mumbled but his legs still felt like jelly though, and he felt himself fall backward onto someone’s chest.

“Oh, no. Look at his arms.”

“Renjun, I think it’ll be easier if I just carry him.”

Donghyuck couldn’t help but agree so he let himself be carefully shifted around until his face was back against the nice jean jacket, his arms around the person’s neck, whose warm hands were under his thighs holding him up piggyback style.

What was happening again? Ah, no, not home.

“We’re going to my place, Hyuck. Don’t worry,” Renjun said quietly and patted his head. “Try not to vomit on Jeno.”

Donghyuck relaxed, nodding absentmindedly before he felt his eyes close from the gentle rocking motion.

He woke up to being laid down, Renjun’s familiar scent enveloping him. The warm hands were leaving him and Donghyuck grasped one of them before they could go.

He brought it to his face, pressing the back of the hand against his own cheek, lips and nose. He giggled and kissed it because it deserved it. It was nice and soft.

The hand tugged itself free as Donghyuck was about to give it another kiss. He groaned at the loss, but it was soon back, this time on his head, gently brushing his hair and guiding a few strands away from Donghyuck’s sweaty forehead.

Donghyuck blinked his eyes open —his eyelids felt so, so heavy— and was met with Jeno’s kind smile. He smiled back and tried to turn around to bury his face into the pillow, but he was stopped by Jeno gently holding his wrists.

“Sorry, we need to clean your wounds.”

“You also need to drink some water so sit up, you drunk mess,” Renjun said as he approached the bed with a first-aid kit in one hand and a glass of water in the other, both of which he set on the bedside table to help Donghyuck sit up.

“Renjun,” Donghyuck mumbled as they started to dab his forearms and palms with a washcloth, his eyes fixedly trained on Jeno’s hands.

“What?” Renjun replied with a sigh.

“‘m sorry.” Donghyuck felt tears rise and bit his lower lip to stop them, but Renjun began to apply the antibiotic ointment and the sting made his eyes water even more until the tears fell down his cheeks.

“Oh, don’t cry,” Jeno said and brushed the tears from his face with the washcloth. It was cool and soothing, but the tears kept coming and Donghyuck just wanted to smother his face into the pillow until everything went away.

“There’s no need for you to be sorry, Hyuck,” Renjun said. “Come on. If you drink the water, we’ll let you sleep it off.”

The water alleviated his parched mouth and he greedily gulped it all, some of it running down his chin. He let himself be lowered down, his eyes once again closing by themselves, a few tears still escaping from their corners. Warm fingers quietly wiped them away.

The day after he’d woken to a terrible hangover and Renjun’s worried face. He’d spent the whole day hiding under the blankets with Renjun, with his laptop propped on a chair to watch silly videos. They didn’t mention the party until night-time, when Renjun asked whether he wanted to stay the night, the week, the month —whatever time he needed to sort things out. His flatmate wouldn’t mind, and he had an inflatable mattress they could use.

In the end it had been months, Donghyuck officially moving in when Renjun’s flatmate moved to another fancier flat. He had taken all of his stuff to the flat the week after the party, Mark driving him back and forth.

Donghyuck had texted Will about coming to pick up his stuff, to which Will had replied with a simple _okay won’t be there_ that had broken his heart all over again.

A small, tiny, minuscule part of his brain had still wished this was all a misunderstanding. (It wasn’t. When he gathered his stuff, he saw the make-up in the bathroom, his toothbrush in the bin, and all the picture frames that displayed their smiles were gone.)

✎

Months had passed and he had avoided Will as much as possible, trying to concentrate on his thesis. Donghyuck sighed as he shook himself from the memories. Earbuds safely ensconced into his ears, he left the library where he’d been hiding from his friends, from Jeno, and briskly walked back to the flat he was still sharing with Renjun, which was, thankfully empty. He beelined to his room, dropping his bag onto the floor to crash onto bed, music still playing in his ears.

It was interrupted by a call; his phone, which rested on his bed, started vibrating. A glance at the screen showed it was Jeno. He turned it over and waited for the ringing to stop and the music to come back on. His phone pinged a few more times but he made no move to answer.

Finally, once instrumental music filled his ears again, he sighed and covered himself with his blanket. He felt silly. He was kind of behaving like one of the heroines he read about, those who wallowed in their misery, starved themselves and refused to be helped, and all of it because of heartache. A heartache so powerful because they’d been consumed by love, forgetting themselves along the way, enough that they’d let themselves waste away.

Donghyuck didn’t quite understand why he was feeling it so deeply (lies. he’d been addicted) and frankly he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Everything had become tiresome, almost tasteless.

He was startled out of his thoughts by the entrance door slamming closed.

“Hyuck, you there?” Renjun shouted. “I know you are.”

Donghyuck didn’t answer, just burrowed himself under the blanket some more, creating a sort of cocoon around him, even though it was useless because he hadn’t closed his bedroom door.

“Here you are!”

A weight landed itself on top of Donghyuck. He groaned and the weight shifted until it was merely pressed against his side. Soon his blanket was raised, and he was staring at his favourite flatmate.

“Mind company?”

Donghyuck shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said flatly. But he rolled onto his side to make space, facing Renjun.

Renjun crawled under the blanket and settled next to Donghyuck. “Hey.”

Renjun had a happy smile on his face, barely dimmed by the room’s faint lighting, the curtains blocking the natural light.

“Hey,” Donghyuck parroted, unconsciously smiling back. They stayed in silence. Renjun’s even breathing pattern made his eyes close.

“Feeling like doing anything?” Renjun softly asked.

“Napping,” Donghyuck whispered, closing his eyes.

“Aw come on,” replied Renjun, poking Donghyuck’s stomach. “I feel like you’ve turned into a marmot.”

“Maybe I have.” He tried to block Renjun’s hand but evil always won and he was soon full of laughter and breathless from the tickling, his stomach painfully clenching as Renjun’s fingers dug into his body, even as he twisted away, tangling himself into the blanket.

“You win,” Donghyuck managed to gasp.

“As the winner, I’ve decided that we’re getting together for a few drinks.”

Donghyuck grabbed Renjun’s wrists in case he decided to resume the torment. “Who’s _we_?”

“You know… Mark and, like, a few other students.”

“You’re going out to party.”

Renjun didn’t even try to deny it. “ _We_ ’re having drinks at Mark’s place first and maybe we won’t even go out. You know how Mark is. Oh, come on. It’s been months. It’ll be fun.”

“I think napping sounds like a better plan.”

“Come on, come on, come on.” Renjun chanted, trying to escape Donghyuck’s hold to attack again. Donghyuck let out a few laughs in anticipation, redoubling his efforts to maintain Renjun’s dangerous fingers away from him.

“We miss you,” Renjun said finally, letting his wrists go limp.

Donghyuck relented, “Alright, yes. I’ll come for a bit.” He slid his hands from Renjun’s wrists to interlace their fingers. Renjun squeezed back.

“You’ll let me choose your clothes for you, right?”

“What are you implying?” Donghyuck asked, fake outrage colouring his voice.

“What it sounds like. You’ve been a hot mess.” Renjun replied with fondness, and perhaps a hint of worry, his thumb lightly caressing the edge of Donghyuck’s hand.

“I’ve been writing.”

“Questionable. Also, it doesn’t dispute the fact that you’re a hot mess.”

Donghyuck huffed, pressing himself further onto Renjun, his face hiding into the other’s neck. “At least you think I’m hot.”

He felt Renjun shake from laughter against him until he stopped with a sigh, adding with warm exasperation, “Hyuck, you only hear what you wanna hear, don’t you?”

Renjun and Donghyuck had arrived early this time, Jeno and Jaemin getting there after Donghyuck had begun sipping his second beer.

He could feel Jeno’s gaze on him, staring intently as Donghyuck avoided meeting his eyes. It was probably because he looked different; Renjun had convinced Donghyuck to wear tight black pants and had styled his hair, which Donghyuck didn’t usually bother with, especially these days; he had let it grow longer than usual, his fringe now parted to the sides.

“You look good,” Jeno said, smiling.

“You too,” Donghyuck replied, suddenly aware they’d been left alone in the kitchen. He could hear Mark’s laughter coming from the living room. Someone had turned music on a tad too loud and he felt the bass resonate throughout his body.

“I miss our coffee breaks.” Jeno said.

“Sorry.” He drank a bit more. He didn’t feel like giving a fake excuse knowing Jeno would see through him.

“I’ll forgive you if we get one next week.”

Donghyuck nodded. “Should be fine.”

Jaemin, with an arm slung around a happy Renjun, entered the kitchen. “Okay let’s move to where the party is at.”

Donghyuck downed his drink and let himself be led around the streets where the popular bars and clubs frequented by university students were found. He swallowed shots and let himself loosen his body to dance with Renjun and Mark.

Later, he let himself laugh as much as his lungs allowed him to when Renjun tried to make him twirl, only to almost fall over if not for Jaemin’s quick reflexes. He felt Jeno’s half-moon eyes on him as his laughter subsided and he wiped the tears away.

Later, he abandoned Mark, who had started to talk linguistics and how alcohol did not actually make you more fluent in a foreign language, and stumbled his way to the restroom. On his way, he caught Renjun and Jaemin making out in a dark corner, Renjun pressed against the wall, hands on the small of Jaemin’s back, with Jaemin’s mouth on his neck.

He reached the restroom, locking himself in, a clenching feeling in his stomach. It might have been all the alcohol (tequila was never kind on his stomach and he didn’t remember how many shots he had had). He swallowed down the bile that rose, bitter at the back of his throat.

It might also have been something ugly like jealousy. Not that he hadn’t known what was going on but, as Renjun had said, he only acknowledged what he wanted to, remaining purposefully blind to obvious signs, be it the red flags from a relationship that was going nowhere or the fact that his best friend had found a boyfriend and had probably avoided to rub it in his face because he wasn’t as self-centred as Donghyuck was.

Later, he smiled at Renjun, danced with him some more, slurring that he was happy for him. At Renjun’s confused face, Donghyuck tried to articulate it better, exaggerating the vowels and consonants, that he was happy for him and Jaemin, and smiled wider. Because he really was; if he set himself aside.

He was startled by Renjun’s fingers, coming to rest on his skin and brushing away the moisture he hadn’t realised had been collecting under his eyes.

“It’s fine. You’re going to be fine, Hyuck.” Renjun smiled, eyes twinkling. “I still love you the most after all.”

Donghyuck laughed and they danced some more and he didn’t even grimace when Jaemin joined them. He felt somewhat lighter, more than he had felt in months. He glanced at Jeno, who was already looking at him, and he could feel himself smiling back. The way that the corners of his lips were rising and rising until teeth were revealed was surprisingly genuine.

Even later, Donghyuck drank some more, only stopping when the edges became blurred. Then he kissed Jeno.

It had been kind of an accident. Jeno had leaned towards his ear to ask him if he wanted some water and his warm breath had tickled on his skin, making Donghyuck turn his head quite abruptly towards Jeno, whose eyes had flickered down, falling on his lips. And so Donghyuck had just tilted his head forward, closing his eyes and the gap to press their lips together.

Despite their noisy surroundings, there was a moment of quietness, of hesitation, of anticipation; Jeno’s hand slowly rising to hover next to Donghyuck’s flushing cheek.

Donghyuck held down the hand until the palm was cupping his cheek. In response, Jeno sighed against his lips, fingers intertwining with his, and then the kiss deepened, Donghyuck’s heart rate quickening at the sensation. He shivered, swaying closer and closer, his free hand coming to rest on Jeno’s waist.

Jeno’s mouth drew away and Donghyuck instinctively followed it, only to be stopped by the palm on his cheek.

“You’re drunk,” Jeno said, his hand sliding from under Donghyuck’s to brush away the few strands of hair that were stuck to his forehead. Donghyuck blinked his eyes open at the sensation and Jeno’s hand dropped to his side.

“Why did you stop?” Donghyuck mumbled, fingers grasping at Jeno’s shirt. Jeno licked his lips.

“Because I like you too much,” he said before smiling and waving at someone behind Donghyuck. “Let’s get you home.”

Donghyuck’s hold on Jeno’s shirt weakened and he let go as the others joined them; his heart, however, had yet to calm down, thumping in his chest as if trying to escape.

Donghyuck woke up to a pasty mouth and throbbing pain in his temples. He squinted his eyes open, his room illuminated by the sunlight that his half-pulled curtains failed to block, and looked for a water bottle. There was one on his bedside table, next to his dying phone, which blinked warning red. He slowly sat up to plug his phone and grab the bottle. He uncapped the latter and took long gulps.

It was on his third mouthful that memories of the previous nights started to be unveiled and he nearly choked as he remembered the sensation of lips on his. The water sprayed everywhere as he coughed it out. He wiped the water dripping from his chin with the back of his hand, a motion he finished by pinching his lower lip with his thumb and index finger, scrunching his eyes shut.

He couldn’t believe that they’d kissed.

He let himself fall back down on the bed and turned around to raise the blanket over his head. His heartbeat had picked up, and was now frantic as he remembered Jeno’s words.

He _liked_ him. He liked him _too much_.

Donghyuck shivered and buried himself deeper into his blanket. The warm giddiness was quick to fade, not only because of his incipient headache and vague nausea, but because it was engulfed by a strange mixture of feelings that were difficult to disentangle, but basically amounted to a gnawing anxiety over a misplaced guilt and a fear that he’d mess up. Because he would. Mess it up.

If this was a novel, he’d be at the stage where, as real barriers cease to exist, self-created obstacles develop to keep apart the lovers in a way meant to maintain the erotic tension of the text.

Donghyuck groaned, lightly hitting his head against the pillow. Except his life wasn’t fiction, and Jeno and he weren’t really lovers. He truly was too hungover for this shit.

A knock on the door interrupted his pity party and Renjun pushed the door open without waiting for a response. “Are you alive?” he asked.

Donghyuck could hear the smirk in his voice and he had no intention to move.

“I’ve brought you coffee,” Renjun continued, before sitting on the bed. Donghyuck felt it dip and sighed, gripping his blanket tightly. It was useless. Renjun quickly ripped it away to peer into his eyes.

“So,” Renjun looked pointedly at Donghyuck, “Jeno huh.”

He stared back. “So Jaemin huh.”

Renjun sighed and shifted so he could sit next to Donghyuck and stretch out his legs on the mattress, crossing them at the ankle. “Yeah, but it’s not a surprise, right?” Renjun asked, before adopting a false air of amazement, the corner of his lips tugging up ever so slightly. “Or is it? Were you shocked?”

Donghyuck scowled, “Of course not.” He closed his eyes and snuggled his head against Renjun’s thigh. His head was still pounding. “I’m happy for you,” he mumbled.

Renjun sighed, his hand coming to play with Donghyuck’s tousled hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before but you were being too pitiful.”

Donghyuck threw him an incredulous look. Renjun laughed before explaining, “You were. It’s true. Don’t deny it. But notice that I’m using the past tense, which brings us back to Jeno.”

“What about Jeno?” Donghyuck sat up. To avert his eyes from Renjun’s inquisitiveness, he almost elbowed him in the chest to grasp the steaming cup of coffee that had been left on his bedside table. Once he was cradling it, he blew on the hot liquid.

“You like Jeno,” Renjun answered bluntly.

“I also like you and Mark. What’s your point?”

“I saw you _kissing_ last night.”

“I’ve also kissed you and Mark.”

Renjun rubbed his eyes in frustration. “Why are you being so difficult?”

Donghyuck shrugged. He’d found that putting words on things always made them more real. He took a sip. It burnt his tongue. He pressed the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth to alleviate the pain and almost wished he could swallow it.

✎

Donghyuck avoided everyone as much as he could. He had a real excuse. In addition to an article he had to finish, his supervisor had set an unrealistic deadline for the theory chapter of his thesis. He spent a few weeks alternating between locking himself in his office and camping with his laptop in a quiet corner of the library, frantically typing and editing until words made sense and he reached his word count. The only breaks he allowed himself were for food and his weekly runs.

It was hard; doing a state-of-the-art review of a subject meant summarising the many studies that had been published on it in a way that was relevant to what he wanted to argue. It had to be concise yet complex and comprehensive. It didn’t help that his topic was popular romance, which had a long history of being despised by society at large.

Like that Jephcott guy he was currently reading, who, in 1943, wrote that popular romance stories only provide to their young readers “stories of sex and sentimentality, not of love. The kisses, the lovestuff, are thrown at the readers. Every page is sickly with them. Only very immature people or girls whose tastes have begun to be perverted could endure constant repetition of this kind of description: ‘Glyn Curtis was the only man who could make her heart throb with longing—the longing to be taken in to his arms, to feel his lips upon hers. Not lightly, caressingly as he had kissed her before, but-!’”

Donghyuck grit his teeth, reminding himself that there were now plenty of scholarship that fought for the value of popular romance novels or, at least, many who tried to explain why readers sought formulaic stories steeped in emotional escapism.

He reread the last sentence, thinking of his own longing, of the feeling of lips upon his, absentmindedly tracing his lip with his fingers. His heart throbbed at the memory of a gentle smile and caring touch.

He groaned and let his head fall against the desk. _Fuck._ It also really didn’t help that everything he read seemed to remind him of his own disaster of a love life.

He breathed in and out a few times and straightened himself to finish reading the short piece, but before concentrating on the words on the screen, he passingly wondered, in the supposed scenario that his life was truly like a romance novel, how likely it was for him to get his own magical happy ending.

He snorted as he read Jephcott’s next paragraph about how readers “know that the world which [romance] presents is quite unlike the real world.”

His avoidance came to an obligatory end a few weeks later with the advent of the three-day long conference that his research group had been preparing for months, which was to take place at the university.

**injunnie:**

will u be ok?

**hyuck:**

why wouldn’t i be?

**injunnie:**

...

**hyuck:**

i’m over him

**injunnie:**

it is my Duty to remind you

**hyuck:**

what?

**injunnie:**

you haven’t seen him since the party where you caught him cheating

**hyuck:**

my heart has healed

**injunnie:**

🤨

**hyuck:**

💋

**injunnie:**

srsly tho

?

**hyuck:**

srsly stop worrying

i’ll be fine

Donghyuck had managed to avoid Will by missing some of the meetings. Anyway, his role had mostly consisted in dealing with emails from the participants and helping with the edition of the programme and book of abstracts.

He hoped he’d be able to continue successfully keeping away from Will, which he was sure was a reciprocated avoidance. Realistically he knew it was going to be nearly impossible. They were both going to help run the sessions and, well, there was also the conference dinner he wouldn’t be able to escape on the second day.

His prediction was partially inaccurate in that it was easier to avoid him than he’d expected. The first day of the conference had been hectic enough, with the arrival of the participants and their registration and the last minute errands, and, even though the second day was more relaxed, he managed to swiftly flee once or twice at Will’s approach.

On the other hand, his prediction was also partly accurate in that Donghyuck ultimately failed to dodge him at the conference dinner.

He was taking a break from having to appear intelligent —conversing at a table full of accomplished scholars was nerve wracking when one suffered from the imposter’s syndrome. He had stepped outside for a moment to breathe in the fresh air of the evening and also to check his phone. Renjun had written to him at the start of the meal but he hadn’t been able to look at his messages until that moment.

**injunnie:**

hey

we’re at a bar next to your restaurant

i’ll send you the location

join us when you’re done

Donghyuck smiled. Maybe he’d swing by for a well-deserved drink, even though he still had to wake up early for the last day of the conference. He sighed and kept scrolling through the messages.

**injunie:**

mark is drunk

he’s flirting

it’s hilarious

He snorted. Mark’s unintentional brand of comedy was always greatly amplified by alcohol.

“What’s so funny?”

Donghyuck whirled around, his gaze falling on Will’s smiling face. He looked calm and as polished and handsome as always. Donghyuck pocketed his phone and scowled at him. “None of your business.”

He tried to walk back inside, but a hand on his elbow stopped him. He shook it off, feeling months of suppressed anger trickling to the surface. “What do you want?” he snarled.

Even though he was still blocking the entrance door, Will raised his hands up to signal peace, which only made Donghyuck angrier. “I just want to talk,” Will replied.

Donghyuck scoffed, “Well, I don’t. Move.” He could feel the blood pumping in his ears, its loudness drowning rational thoughts.

“Please,” Will said. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

Donghyuck’s eyebrows raised in incredulity as the words Will had uttered involuntarily the last time he’d seen him flashed through his mind. They were branded in his mind.

“ _He can’t get the hint that I’m not gay_ ,” Donghyuck said through clenched teeth. “That’s what you said to your white girl.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Will replied, taking a step closer, hands still up. “I—”

“I don’t think it’s open to interpretations.” Donghyuck interrupted, crossing his arms in front of his chest and tucking his trembling hands under them. “There were so many warning signs that I ignored. Just… leave me alone.”

“Let’s talk,” Will replied, unmoving. “What do you mean by warning signs?”

“You were fucking possessive and never let me fucking _breathe_ ,” Donghyuck took a breath, trying to steady his tremulous voice before continuing. “You fucking cheated on me. You lied to me. You made me feel worthless.”

“But I loved you, you know,” Will said softly, stepping closer and reaching for Donghyuck’s cheek.

“Did you? Did you really?” He could feel his volume rise and he didn’t want to make a scene, he wanted to leave, but the words kept coming out. “If you had, you’d have left me before you cheated.”

“Oh, Donghyuck,” Will whispered, eyes full of pity. “You sound so angry. Do you still have feelings for me?” He asked before his fingers reached Donghyuck’s cheek in a gentle caress.

It felt like getting struck. Not believing what he was witnessing, Donghyuck stood frozen for a few seconds until Will’s eyes flickered to his lips, until he saw him leaning in.

Donghyuck pushed Will away with enough strength to make him stumble. He stepped further back seeing Will’s features twist in anger.

“You’ve always made things difficult, Hyuck. Turning everything into one of those stupid novels,” Will said, voice tainted by annoyance. “I’m not a villain and you’re definitely not an innocent heroine.”

“I never claimed to be.” Donghyuck seethed. “You’ve always treated me as an exotic trophy, a belonging, instead of an equal worthy of a long-term relationship.”

“Don’t analyse me through your postcolonial bullshit theory.”

“Feeling identified?”

“No,” Will snorted, expression and voice cold, “I don’t feel like listening to your petty pedantry.”

“You mean you don’t feel like acknowledging your fetishization,” Donghyuck replied bitterly.

“As if you’d acknowledge how annoying you are. You’re so clingy and never shut up.”

“Well, you—” Donghyuck started, but Will cut in, gesturing at Donghyuck’s face.

“Why are you crying now?” Will scoffed. He tilted his head, a cold smile stretching his lips. “You’re so emotionally manipulative. Are you trying to make me feel guilty or something?”

“I’m not…” but Donghyuck suddenly noticed that he was, in fact, crying, though the only emotions he could feel right now were frustration and anger. He angrily wiped away his tears. “That’s not why I’m crying. Also, I don’t know why we’re even talking. Fuck you.”

Donghyuck stalked towards the door, knocking shoulders with Will. Thankfully, Will didn’t stop him and Donghyuck managed to lock himself into the bathroom without being seen by any participants.

He blew his nose with some toilet paper and splashed water on his face while avoiding looking at the mirror. Finally, he let himself fall down on the toilet seat, knowing he needed a few minutes to calm down. _Fuck him_.

Trying not to think of what had just happened, he took out his phone and tapped on Renjun’s newly arrived messages.

**injunnie:**

you just missed mark dancing on a table

i’m kidding

you haven’t missed it

i’ve got your back and have it on tape for posterity’s sake

[VIDEO]

you’re welcome <3

also

you should rly come bc jeno looks like a kicked puppy

He couldn’t help but laugh at Renjun’s words, even though it was accompanied by a few tears rolling down his cheeks. He wiped them and lightly tapped his face with both hands.

It was late enough that he could leave the dinner without offending anyone. He’d just tell his supervisor that he had an emergency and wave a general goodbye. He’d see most of the people the next day anyway.

His supervisor didn’t question him —he probably did look like he had an emergency— and he was able to quickly make his way to the bar where the others were having fun.

It was a Thursday so the bar wasn’t excessively crowded and he immediately spotted Jeno sitting at an empty table, nursing a beer. Jeno waved him over and, at Donghyuck’s confused face, tilted his head towards the dancefloor where Mark looked like he was having the time of his life with a tall, handsome stranger.

“Renjun and Jaemin have just disappeared and I’m thinking we don’t want to know why,” Jeno said, as Donghyuck settled down next to him, after having fetched a beer at the counter. “Mark’s dancing with a guy from the Physics department.”

Donghyuck hummed in reply. They quickly lapsed into a comfortable silence. Jeno was observing the dancefloor with his chin resting on his knuckles, elbow propped up against the table, while Donghyuck kept staring at the bottom of his drink, looking at the rising bubbles.

It was hard not to replay the conversation he’d just had with Will, fragments of sentences unwittingly making their way to the forefront of his mind. Even though he knew the words they had traded didn’t mean much as they had been said in the middle of a heated exchange, he could still feel the pinprick of Will’s sharp words. He could still feel his gaze full of pity on him. The way his fingers had felt on his cheek.

A hand on top of his suddenly startled him, almost making him spill his glass but effectively breaking the circularity of his thoughts.

He turned his gaze towards Jeno, who raised his eyebrows at him. “You were aggressively tapping the table.” Jeno said, “I think you made a dent.”

Jeno didn’t move his hand and neither did Donghyuck. The weight and warmth of the touch were comforting.

“Your eyes were also drilling quite the hole in this glass.” Jeno stopped, hesitance written on his face, before gently squeezing his hand and asking, “Are you alright?”

Donghyuck shrugged and looked back at his beer. “I don’t know if I want to talk about it.” He raised the glass with his free hand and took a sip.

“I’m listening if you want to.”

Donghyuck took another sip before turning his gaze back to Jeno. “I’ve just had a fight with Will.”

Jeno nodded once, frowning, and Donghyuck felt his fingers twitch on top of his even though he was pretty certain that Jeno wasn’t that surprised since Renjun had most likely shared his worries with him.

“It was just stupid stuff,” he continued. “I don’t think there was a need for us to talk anyway.”

Jeno hummed. “Were you able to tell him how you feel?”

Donghyuck blinked in surprise. He had, a little bit, and it didn’t really matter that Will hadn’t been willing to listen, much less to understand, even though it would have obviously been nicer but Will wasn’t the kind of person who was inclined to learn from others it seemed.

Also, Will’s words served as a reminder to his own faults. While they had been mean and aimed to hurt, he had to admit they had some truth to them: he could be annoying and clingy. He needed an excessive amount of reassurance and tended to apply theory to real life, both of which making him overthink and doubt himself.

Donghyuck took a sip of his beer. The liquid felt bitter and cool on his tongue. Maybe he could do with less thoughts.

“Hyuck?” Jeno asked, gently squeezing his hand.

“I was,” he replied. “I mean... I was able to tell him some of my thoughts.”

“That’s good then,” Jeno said, “Though if you need it, I can arrange for someone to punch him.”

Donghyuck chuckled, feeling a little bit lighter. “Thanks, but I think that if I wished to see him punched, I’d want to do it myself.”

Jeno smiled, eyes disappearing into their lovely usual crescent shape, and Donghyuck couldn’t help but lean forward, fingers sliding until they were interlaced with Jeno’s.

Donghyuck tilted his head in a silent question, which was answered by the slow caress of Jeno’s finger against his, and he allowed himself to relax, shoulders dropping as the tension faded from his body.

He only had the time to savour a few minutes of the comfortable silence afforded by Jeno’s presence, albeit a relative one since the bass of the music resonated in Donghyuck’s chest, before warm breath hit his ear and an arm snaked around his shoulder.

“Hyuuuuck,” Renjun shouted in his ear, leaning heavily on him. “You’re here.”

“Yes, and now I’ve also lost hearing decibels,” he replied, fingers detaching from Jeno’s.

Renjun chuckled and let himself fall into Donghyuck’s lap before he could protest. “You only ever listen to what you want anyway. Let me have some.”

Not leaving him time to answer, Renjun gulped on his beer. Jaemin gave Donghyuck a sheepish smile as he slid into a seat in front of Jeno. His lips were red and glistening, a hickey peeking from under the collar of his shirt, its first few buttons undone. Donghyuck grimaced and stole back his glass despite Renjun’s noisy indignation.

He tilted his head back and drank what was left in one shot, the glass making a satisfying clink when he swiftly lowered it back down on the table.

“Let’s go dance!” Renjun exclaimed, grabbing Donghyuck’s forearm and pulling him up and towards the dancefloor.

Donghyuck looked back at Jeno, who already had his gaze on him. As their eyes met, smiles tugging at their lips, his heart fluttered.

✎

Donghyuck was at his desk, mindlessly scrolling through twitter, trying to ignore the guilt of not working as the minutes wasted away from the lower corner of his screen.

He had spent the weekend lazily reading at home but he was still tired, in the way he always was after scholarly events that required him to socialise and be intellectual at the same time. He had to moderate panels, which meant coming up with interesting questions in case the audience didn’t participate, and to make small talk that more often than not involved talking about his own research.

He sighed when thinking about the conference, stopping his scrolling on a tweet from @legogradstudent about perfectionism (“ _Editing a paper draft to an obsessive degree, the grad student cherishes a rare moment of having control._ ” ). He sniggered.

Thankfully, the conference had ended with no further encounters with Will, both of them obviously avoiding each other. Nonetheless, his thoughts couldn’t help but replay some of the words they had exchanged. He gnawed at his lower lip and gave a like to the tweet.

A knock on the door made him jerk on his chair and quickly switch tabs to his article draft. He had sent it to a journal a while ago and they had come back to him with an “accepted with minor revisions” response. The suggestions for minor changes weren’t that minor in Donghyuck’s opinion. They implied that he had to restructure the article, which meant that editing the text felt like he was trying to modify a glue-free tower of cards. It felt daunting, particularly because they also wanted him to add new references and clarify ideas while simultaneously sticking to the word count limitation.

“Come in,” Donghyuck said, sinking in his chair as the cursor of the word document blinked tauntingly at him.

“Hey, it’s the coffee delivery service for my favourite struggling writer,” Jeno said, stepping inside while precariously holding two coffee cups and a paper bag.

They had spent the weekend texting each other random things, Donghyuck mainly sending him extracts from the two romance novels he had been reading, to which Jeno had replied with cat memes. Donghyuck couldn’t refrain to smile at the memory, feeling warm inside.

“Oh, hey.” Donghyuck stood up and grabbed a coffee to free one of Jeno’s hands. “Not a writer, Jeno, and what’s the occasion?”

Jeno set the bag and the other cup on the desk before he replied with a smile, “You write, therefore you’re a writer. Also do I need a reason to hang out with you?”

Donghyuck felt his cheeks heat up. “Err… of course not. Thanks for the coffee,” he said before quickly taking a sip and burning his tongue. He must have made a face because Jeno chuckled and he felt himself get even more flustered. It was a wonder he had yet to spill the coffee all over himself.

Jeno’s smile suddenly dropped, his face turning serious, eyes still affixed on Donghyuck. “Actually I simply wanted to see you because I like you.”

Donghyuck was really glad he wasn’t mid sip because he was pretty sure he’d have swallowed wrong, choked and died. He set the cup on his desk, momentarily breaking eye contact.

Jeno went on, “I want you to know my intentions so I’ll clarify. When I say I like you, I mean I want to date you.” He paused. “I guess I did have a reason to come and see you,” he admitted chuckling.

Donghyuck liked Jeno too, and he hadn’t been oblivious to the other’s feelings either. He’d come to terms with it after they had kissed, but he hadn’t been able to quite stifle the guilt of knowing that he’d flirted with Jeno way before that, when he was still with Will. That and the fact that he was currently a trainwreck (or as Jeno had put it, a “struggling writer”) were making him hesitant to enter a romantic relationship.

He looked back at Jeno, who was looking at him with wide eyes. “To be honest… I like you too,” Jeno’s lips tugged up into the beginning of a smile, Donghyuck forged on, “but I’m not sure I’m ready for a relationship.”

The corner of Jeno’s lips froze and Donghyuck could read disappointment in his eyes, making guilt pool at the bottom of his stomach. But then Jeno shook his head and smiled at him, “I thought you probably wouldn’t be ready to date but I figured I’d be honest with you. I can wait for you if you let me,” Jeno’s lips pressed together, and he quickly added, “but I’m fine with us being just friends.”

Guilt gave way to relief and Donghyuck felt himself smile. “Why do you have to be so nice?”

“I’m not that nice,” Jeno shrugged. “I think you’re just used to assholes.”

Donghyuck pressed his lips together. He disagreed. Jeno was probably the nicest person he’d ever met. He was sweet, intelligent and caring, and didn’t mind when Donghyuck was rambling about his research. He respected his choices, even if he disagreed, even if it didn’t align with his own wishes.

Donghyuck had let his emotions overtake his judgement before, letting love erase some essential parts of himself, making him a worse person than he could be —than he should be— and he had wanted to protect himself from that happening again. But falling in love meant letting himself be vulnerable and exposing himself to the potential of losing some parts of himself and getting hurt. Even though this idea sounded like a worn-out platitude, it didn’t make it less true.

Also, if he were quite honest with himself, he had already let it happen. He had inadvertently let feelings grow in the wild, spreading to the hidden corners of his heart.

Most importantly, people and feelings tended to change and he knew that if he let this opportunity slip away, there was a chance there wouldn’t be another one, even if Jeno was willing to wait. And Donghyuck was sure of that one thing: he’d regret not trying.

“I don’t think so. I think you’re nice, maybe too nice sometimes.” Donghyuck stepped closer to Jeno, his heart beating way too fast. He clinged to this sudden surge of certainty and courage to continue. “I think you’re special and I don’t think I want to be just friends,” he said staring into Jeno’s eyes.

Jeno looked stunned for a few seconds before a smile bloomed on his face once again. He took a step, almost closing the gap between them, and Donghyuck watched how his hand rose to tuck a loose strand behind Donghyuck’s ear, the gesture felt like a déjà vu, reminding him of an earlier moment, when he had pressed their lips together and Jeno’s hand had hovered above his cheek before gently cupping his cheek.

Jeno’s fingers slid from his ear with a slow caress to rest against his face, thumb stroking his cheek. “Let’s not be friends then,” Jeno whispered, breath brushing against Donghyuck from their closeness. Donghyuck’s heart hiccupped and he leant in until there was no space between them.

✎

They’d kept quiet about it, at first, as things gradually changed.

Donghyuck’s stays at the library transformed into walks where hands were held tight, arms leisurely swinging between their bodies, and their coffee breaks became date-like events that ended in kisses in Donghyuck’s office before Jeno left him to his writing.

This slow interweaving of their lives felt so natural that Donghyuck didn’t quite register what he had done the first time he’d kissed Jeno on the lips and held his hand in front of their friends during one of their bar outings.

Mark choked on his drink under Donghyuck’s curious gaze and Jaemin patted his back until his coughing subsided and he was able to speak. “When did that happen?” Mark spluttered.

Donghyuck frowned. “What happened?”

“He means you and Jeno getting together,” Renjun laughed, “You do realise that you’ve just kissed him in a much more than friendly way, right?”

“Oh,” Donghyuck turned abruptly to Jeno with a slight panicked look on his face.

“It’s fine with me if they know,” Jeno said, anticipating his question.

Donghyuck paused, thinking of how to express what Jeno and he had. He found that, surprisingly, it came to him easily.

“We’ve been dating for a month or so,” he announced before winking at Jeno, whose face was now painted in joyful amazement sparked by his choice of words.

Then, he glanced at Renjun and Jaemin. They didn’t look surprised at all, which in turn only mildly surprised Donghyuck. It wasn’t like they had actively hidden it anyway ( _“You were_ real _discreet, acting like how the campus peacocks do during mating season,”_ Renjun snorted).

“Oh man, congratulations! I’m really glad,” Mark finally said, smiling widely at Jeno and Donghyuck, though his face fell slightly as he looked from one couple to the other and it dawned on him. “Does that mean I’m now a fifth wheel?”

Donghyuck also didn’t quite realise when liking Jeno had turned into loving him.

Maybe it had been during that time Jeno had organised a picnic, or that time they’d cuddled watching _Titanic_. Maybe it had happened the first time they’d _made love_ because that was the only way he could describe sex with Jeno.

To tell the truth, it probably hadn’t been any specific moment that had pushed his feelings over the edge. The love he felt was warm like the steady and constant heat of a slowcooker and unlike the passion he’d felt for Will when he’d fallen for him, where attraction and sex had been first in a way that made him feel very much alive —feelings intense and easily brought to the surface— but that also led to being badly burnt.

It didn’t mean one sort of love was better than the other, but sometimes he wondered if the feelings he felt for Jeno were less strong because they hadn’t started with smouldering embers, ravaging him completely, instead having been kindled into soft affection and gentle tenderness.

It was those thoughts that were clouding his mind as they laid in bed facing each other, limbs tangled and naked skin sticking together from the sweat.

“What are you thinking about?” Jeno asked, staring into Donghyuck’s eyes. His fingers left Donghyuck’s hip where they were lazily circling his hip bone, but Donghyuck had no time to mourn its loss as they rose to stroke the spot right in between his eyebrows. “You’re frowning.”

Donghyuck wriggled his eyebrows in an attempt to dislodge Jeno’s fingers. “Nothing much.”

Instead of moving away, the fingers lightly flickered the spot.

“Ouch,” Donghyuck mumbled in response, raising his hand to grab Jeno’s. However, Jeno was faster to grab and push, resulting in Donghyuck losing his balance and falling onto his back as both his hands were pinned down above his head.

“I don’t believe you,” Jeno said, moving to straddle his thighs, and added teasingly, “I won’t let you go until that frown and the thoughts that caused it are gone.”

Jeno tightened his grip, probably expecting his prisoner to rebel. Instead, Donghyuck relaxed into the mattress. “You wanna have another go?” he replied. He winked and lifted his knees, planting both feet onto the bed, so Jeno would slide into his lap.

He laughed at Jeno’s sudden state of fluster. In response, Jeno, whose face was now hovering closer over his, quickly reduced the gap between their lips, effectively shutting him up with an open mouthed kiss, tongue slipping in for increased efficacy.

Donghyuck’s chuckles turned into barely suppressed moans, his hips thrusted up onto Jeno, against his butt. He pushed against Jeno’s hold, craving to run his fingers in Jeno’s hair and against his back, but Jeno maintained his grip as the kiss grew more heated.

It could’ve been a few minutes to an hour when Jeno moved back, breathing heavily, and sat back on Donghyuck’s thighs, letting his wrists go.

Donghyuck pouted and made grabby hands at Jeno until the other sighed and lied back down on his side, hand back on Donghyuck’s hip as Donghyuck also shifted to face him, neck pillowed on Jeno’s arm.

Jeno’s lips glistened with spit and Donghyuck felt compelled to bite on them. He brushed them with his fingertips instead. Under his fingers, he felt how the lips thinned as they stretched into a soft smile. Donghyuck glanced up, at Jeno’s eyes, and was stricken with the thought that they seemed to twinkle with fondness.

He nuzzled against Jeno’s arm, basking in the warmth that enveloped him. This felt like the best love he could possibly feel. He wet his lips and sighed, letting go.

“Is it love if you are not absolutely consumed by it?”

Jeno blinked back at him several times and Donghyuck could observe how he slowly connected the dots.

“That’s an obsession,” Jeno replied. “It’s not healthy.”

Donghyuck thought of broken plates and stifling jealousy. Of a love that went out in smoke. “Define healthy.”

“Love can be gentle.” Jeno said, grasping Donghyuck’s hand and oh so gently intertwining their fingers together. “Like the flame of those fragrant candles.”

Donghyuck snorted, his heart hammering in his chest. “But that’s easily put out unlike a ravaging passionate fire.”

“I’ll light it as many times as you want, as you let me, every day if I have to.” Jeno’s voice softened, his tone dashed with bitter sweetness. “Until you don’t want me to. I can only promise that it won’t burn you to the ground.”

“That’s so cheesy,” Donghyuck chuckled, closing his eyes.

“You’d think you’d gotten immunity, with your reading habits,” Jeno laughed, bright and clear, and pulled on his hand, bringing him closer until Donghyuck had no choice but to look at him, his field of vision full of only Jeno. He let his eyes slowly wander up, passing the wide, wide smile to settle on Jeno’s crinkled eyes.

“Well, I know how this conversation should end from my readings.”

“How?” Jeno’s eyes widened in curiosity, his lips parting slightly, and Donghyuck took his chance to dive in, letting himself fall again.

_With a true love’s kiss of course._


End file.
